Pop Culture Issues I Somehow Can't Ignore

I am now 26 years old and have long stopped paying attention to silly "headlines" like what this celebrity wore or whom that celebrity is dating. I don't even go to Yahoo.com anymore because 95% of the stories are about silly things about celebrities nobody should have to care about. If people read more about philosophy and psychology and sociology, maybe they won't have to listen to the babbling of some "influential" celebrities for validation, but I digress.

Anyway, I've stopped buying OK! and Cosmopolitan magazines for almost two years now, and I have stopped browsing Yahoo.com around the same time. This is roughly the period when I've also stopped paying attention to the personal details of celebrities, even of those I happen to like. While I don't enjoy being cynical, I can't help but become a tad jaded when I learned that there are such things as image consultants. Essentially, I learned that the "personal styles" or "fashion tastes" of some celebrities are created for them, rendering "headlines" about fashion hits and misses bogus. The same goes with their "message" and public statements.

Since the downward spiral of Lindsay Lohan following the peak of Mean Girls, I have long since learned that celebrities should be allowed to be imperfect human beings with inevitable psychological problems considering their typically dysfunctional backgrounds. However, at this rate, with irreverent celebrity gossip needed to support the imaginary status of mediocre talents, dreaming of responsible journalism seems far-fetched.

Instead, I'll give in just this once to express something about a few pop culture topics I feel especially strongly about. Feel free to show me where I might be wrong.

Meghan Trainor

When I first heard "All About That Bass," I was in the treadmill on my second day of going to the gym ever. It was the time when I'd finally taken the initiative to get fit after nearly 15 years of being overweight. When I first heard the song, it made me feel glad that there is a popular song that directly addresses the issue of body positivity.

Prior to engaging in boxing workout routines, I'd taken to maintaining a positive but realistic attitude regarding body image. While I've desired to be thinner for both aesthetic and health reasons, I'm determined to still feel beautiful and confident while my BMI hasn't gone down to the normal range yet. On the flip side, I also believe that while overweight and obese people don't deserve being shamed for their looks and eating habits, thin people mustn't get the same treatment for the sake of "body positivity."

So you can imagine my disappointment when I heard more and more flaws in "All About That Bass" each time I heard it on the radio. The biggest problem with the song is when "skinny bitches" are mercilessly slammed in a backhanded insult of a lyric. This leads to another problem with the song in that the bottom line of so-called body positivity as illustrated in the song is that it is sexually desirable apparently. Not because you'll be more content in the long run or that you have more relevant attributes like intelligence or compassion or you mustn't feel guilty about eating fast food from time to time; it's because "boys they like a little more booty to hold at night." While it's a legitimate point that everyone can understand quickly, it once again misses the one best lesson in body positivity that organizations like Dove tend to overlook: People mustn't depend their entire self-worth on their physical appearance alone.

One more point about the song that bothers me intensely are the lines "My momma, she told me don't worry about your size" and "I won't be no stick figure silicone Barbie doll." Let me tell you this: A mother who lets her fat daughter keep getting fat is a negligent parent who doesn't care about her child's well-being. My mother was the one who convinced me that I need to do something about my weight because she is concerned that my obesity might get worse and it was already affecting my psychological health. Since going to the gym, I've maintained a good mood and even improved my humor. I look forward to updating my wardrobe once my BMI reaches "normal."

Regarding the Barbie doll line, I honestly don't understand why Barbie is under so much scrutiny. Why must she have to have a "realistic" design when she is a doll designed to simulate the body of a grown lady? I had never heard of a girl who literally felt bad she can't look like Barbie. And why must her looks matter so much? Barbie as a fictional character is a great role model for girls because she has engaged in plenty of different careers without abandoning her "girliness." Who says the love for fashion and a successful career in business or public service are incompatible?

And finally, there's Meghan Trainor herself. I understand this might be a ploy perpetuated by her record executives, but I'm not falling for her trick in passing off as a new Adele. First of all, she isn't fat. Even Beyoncé Knowles and Jennifer Lawrence are noticeably chunkier than Trainor. Trainor merely has a square, androgynous face she covers up with doll-like makeup to look more feminine. Besides, Adele might be fat, but that's not entirely why she's famous; like Aretha Franklin, Adele makes up for her unconventional figure by having great vocal talent.

Ariana Grande

Ariana Grande is one of those celebrities that are ubiquitous. No matter how hard I try not to pay attention, she is on TV, on the radio, and all over the Internet being talked about by her fans and haters alike. I fall in the latter category, and I believe everyone else has probably pointed out what I'm about to say. Her first few hits were Mariah Carey copycats and, in those songs where she is most like herself, her otherwise impressive range doesn't conceal that her voice is somewhat annoying.

And then there's her Lolita image. It's like she can't decide whether she wants to be sexy and seductive or sweet and unattainable. I'm not impressed either way and I just get angry when she unnecessarily bats her fake eyelashes at me through the screen. I'm just waiting when she finally ditches the dresses and appears nude in a magazine cover or something.

Soul-Craving

I am 26 years old. In a little more than a month, I'll be 27. By then, I will have spent all 27 years of my life single.

In the last two days, I've been feeling this ache in my chest. It's a familiar sensation, but it's more intense now than ever before. I feel it somewhere in my diaphragm and radiating to my womb. The pain of hollowness.

I don't enjoy being single very much. No matter how hard I try to convince myself that it's better that I'm still trying to figure my self out; that I probably should achieve self-realization rather than be like Bella Swan and never feel whole without a partner; I can never fight off this terrifyingly physical pain or the thoughts that come with it—not permanently. I always feel the twinge of envy when I see couples shamelessly sharing affection in public; or when people tell their friends about their significant other.

Alas, I have never felt a man's lips against my skin; nor his hand upon my waist or shoulder. I have never had a man gaze upon me with desire. I have never been someone to make a man feel whole and at peace.

The pain rises to my throat now, closing it up until I can barely breathe. It squeezes tears from my eyes. I wish this were some exaggerated imagery from a nu rock song from my adolescent years. But no, there's no way I could be imagining it. Twice now, I have caught myself moaning in agony; and crying out in one occasion. It was the same noise I made when I was suffering from the swollen gall bladder threatening to spill its toxic contents into my abdominal cavity. But that pain was made bearable by doctors who can fix it, which they did.

No one can fix the pain I'm having now. I tried, but my efforts have made it worse somehow.

I've been afraid to put this online because there will be feminists and misandrists who will invalidate my anguish by saying I don't need a man to fulfill my needs; that it's somehow wrong to feel this way, to yearn for a man; or worse, that the pursuit for romance isn't worth the effort because any and all relationships have a potential for heartbreak. They will say that I ought to be adequately satisfied with having a great career, which I do. If that were the case, I shouldn't be feeling this pain.

Yungian psychologist and gender studies expert Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Ph.D has a word for it: soul-craving. Something real and intangible at the same time, soul-craving can be described as an intense and deep longing that you can practically feel in your bones that you gotta have whatever it is.

When I was a little girl, I would watch TV romances depicting a teenage boy visiting a house, asking his potential partner's parents' permission to court her. My parents have met that way. And so did many of their peers. So, I imagined a boy coming for me and we would enjoy a wondrous courtship of at least two years and decide to get married.

In today's social climate, I understand how traditional courtship isn't as universal as it once was. Even young men have to pursue self-actualization.

Nowadays, courtship is something only teenage boys do anymore because they're the ones with more time and money to spend it on. When I eventually became involved with my career, I entertained the notion of meeting someone by chance and hitting it off right away. Even as I commute every day because I'm too short to reach the car pedals, it hasn't happened yet. And I'm beginning to fear that it never will.

I don't understand why it hasn't happened for me yet. I had told myself that I would be ready for a boyfriend by 16; 10 years later, boyfriends have come and gone for most people my age and the closest thing I got was a pervert taxi driver who doesn't take no for an answer. Many of my peers have even married and had children. I had thought I would do the same by 25.

I know I shouldn't be treating life like a race; I have read enough pseudo-feminist articles to get it through me. But the ache of longing and loneliness is still there, chewing me from the inside out.

Many single people comfort themselves in having broken up with the "wrong person" so they would eventually meet the right one. They have experienced love and loss and treat it as a learning experience, so they know what to do and what not to do with a new partner. I have no idea what that's even like. I've even become afraid of eventually entering a relationship. At my age and what I'm feeling now, I would be less likely to be willing to break up with somebody, so what if I do experience heartbreak? Would I know what to do afterwards?

A rom-com gets lauded for being relatable and I feel like a child being taught what being on the moon feels like. I might be able to imagine it, but I wouldn't know it for myself. And for almost 27 years, imagining was all I've ever done.

I have written many stories about finding love that lasts. I base them not from experience but from learning online what a healthy relationship should be like. I'm starting to think that's really pathetic. I write of people kissing and making love; I've never even had a man look at me with desire and ask for my name. What's even more pathetic is that my more experienced friend tells me I make an accurate depiction of romance.

If I know eros so well, mustn't I have had my turn by now? I like to believe that God has reserved that one special person for me; the one who would fit just right; the one He Himself would present to me, when the time comes. If he's out there, is he so far away that I can't reach him where I am? Is he looking for me? Does he hurt and cry like I do?

If we were to come across each other, would we know it? Would either of us stop and say hi? Would we finally experience comfort in each other's presence? Would we still fall into the common shortcomings of relationships like unfounded jealousy? Would we rise above that and be happy?

I'm probably looking too far into a relationship that doesn't exist. I haven't even seen his face.

A Prayer for the Victims of Terrorism

Almighty and Ever-Merciful Lord, I praise You for providing mankind with a beautiful home and the capacity to make it a better place than before. I praise You for giving us faculties for reason and religion; and with them, the pursuit for truth and justice. It is with great sorrow, that this wonderful world and its prosperous people have been corrupted with evil. As it was at the birth of Your Church, Lord, those who do not know of Your love are persecuting those whom You have called to your service. Innocent Christians of all ages are having their bodies desecrated in the name of power, disguised as religious motivation. Innocent, peaceful Muslims are also being attacked by heartbroken Christians who lack the wisdom to discern that Muslim extremists are people corrupted by sin, not motivated by faith.

Lord, please, welcome into Your House the people who have died at the hands of so-called jihadists. As you have done for St. Sebastian, St. Agnes, St. Ignatius of Antioch, St. Stephen, St. Lorenzo Ruiz, St. Pedro Calungsod, and the newly canonized martyrs of Korea, please, welcome the fallen victims of terrorism into your arms and let them sing of Your glory with your angels and saints forever. Let them enjoy Your everlasting grace in Your presence where there is no more pain or hunger or sickness or hatred; where they only cry for joy.

For us who seek peace in the land of the living, let us be governed by Your wisdom and love. Let us not be swayed by vengeful anger but be driven by the pursuit of justice and mercy.

And for those who continue to challenge You by slaying Christians, Lord, it is clear that in creating them in their mothers’ wombs, You have kindled in them the burning desire for worship. The Evil One has replaced their fire with the poisonous smoke of violence. Touch them, O Lord. Do not forsake them. Save them from the fires of Hell. Born from the seed of Ishmael whom You have delivered from the desert, deliver them from the Evil One that pollutes their hearts. Born of Ishmael who was born from Abraham, they are Your children, Lord.

Restore us into unity. We are united in You. Let us all be an instrument of Your peace. Amen.